Pretend To Be Mine

By Carter Blake

The moment Brooklyn Walsh walked into my office I wanted her. No, scratch that, I wanted to f*ck her. To pull up that tight little skirt she was wearing, bend her over my desk, and make her mine. 

But damn if it doesn't go against my one and only rule – never mix business with pleasure. 

She looks at me like I'm Prince Charming, here to fulfill all her deepest fantasies, but I'm far from the man she thinks I am. 

Filthy rich. Dominant. Possessive. I'm the Big Bad Wolf her mother warned her about, ready to devour her innocence and her heart. 

Despite how difficult my delicious, little assistant has made it, I've kept my distance.

Until tonight. 

Because tonight, I need her to pretend to be mine. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carter Blake
• Release date: Jul 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393319764

Book preview

Chapter One

Ross

The moment Brooklyn Walsh walked into my office I wanted her. No, scratch that, I wanted to fuck her. To pull up that tight little skirt she was wearing and drive myself balls deep into what would no doubt be the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had.

But damn if it didn’t go against my one and only rule – never mix business with pleasure.

Despite the way my cock protests every time she walks into the room, my sweet little assistant would have to stay that. Sweet. Untainted by my perverse desires. Assisting me in every need except the one I can’t stop thinking about.

Today, Brooklyn’s curvy little body is snug in a little black dress, that while modest, screams fuck me, please. Hell, I swear the woman could make a burlap bag look sexy.

She tucks a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear, and studies the tablet that she’s holding.

I’ve thought about firing her. That would solve my problem. But from the small details I know about her, she needs this job. And in all fairness, she’s a good assistant. One of the best I’ve had in the five years since I took over the company.

But with Brooklyn it’s like my cock has a mind of its own. Like I’m some hormonal teenager and not a thirty-two-year-old CEO millionaire who can have any woman he wants.

Any woman except Brooklyn Walsh.

Transferring her to another department crossed my mind. But I haven’t been able to make the call. The torment of having her around is nothing compared to having her assist anyone else.

She’s looking at me now, brows drawn down when she takes in my appearance. I can only imagine what she sees. Still dressed in yesterday’s suit, I run my hand across the scruff on my jaw, then through my mussed hair.

What? I bark, making her jump slightly.

She glances across the room towards the black leather couch and rumpled blanket, and frowns. Did you sleep here last night?

I grunt, refocusing my attention to the paperwork in front of me. Yeah, I’d slept here. Because the only thing that takes my mind off the tortuous ache in my balls is work. That and the bottle of bourbon that’s half-empty in the bottom drawer of my desk.

Coffee? The lilt of her voice makes me look up.

Bad move. She’s standing in front of me, and when she reaches over to place a cup in front of me, I can see straight down the front of her dress to the pink satin bra she’s wearing.

Holy hell, I’m one hundred percent screwed.

I groan, and her gaze flashes to mine, eyes widening. So innocent, and yet so damn inviting, I swear my cock is going to burst through the seams of my pants.

Down boy.

Sit. The word comes out harsher than I intended.

She bites on her bottom lip and sits in the chair across from me, adjusting her dress nervously.

I know full well that I scare her. I’m a hard man to work with, but with her I’ve been even more demanding. More callous. I’m surprised she’s lasted as long as she has. Most people would have quit weeks ago.

But not Brooklyn. Despite the sweetness about her, she’s tough. Like there’s a steel iron inside her, under all those luscious curves.

Your father called.

My head jerks up at that, because I know the second part of that sentence will only fuck with my life one way or another.

I’d hoped he would take it easy when he handed over the company’s reins to me. With his high blood pressure, retirement was exactly what the doctor ordered. Not to mention that he’d let the business slip.

It took two years to get it out of the red, and another two to clean up the mess he’d created. So, when my father said that he was running for office, I thought it was some kind of a joke.

And? I demand, tapping my fingers on the edge of my desk waiting for her to drop the bomb.

He wanted to make sure you were still going to the Gladstone Charity Event tonight.

Shit. I’d forgotten all about it.

When I spoke with him, he sounded pretty persistent that you be there. And… She winces and looks away.

And what, Miss Walsh?

That you bring a date and not the same… She bites back a small smile. "…floozy you brought to the last one."

I grunt and lean forward, forearms resting on my desk, and mentally go through my backlog of women. But the thought of spending time with any of them is as appealing as shoving my hand in a blender.

Work is the only relationship I have time for. The last thing I need is another female trying to dig her claws into my bed and bank account. And that’s exactly what will happen if I invite any one of the women in my little black book.

I need something simpler.

The thought of calling an escort feels desperate. And I’ve already had one humiliating experience that I’ll never live down. The last time I hired a companion for the evening, most of the men at the event had rented her out before. She spent more time handing out cards than actually being my date.

She wasn’t the most expensive escort on the books because she was good. She was the most expensive one because she was popular. The whole fucking thing was embarrassing. The idea that everyone knew that my date was an escort is one scandal that my father has never let me live down.

I could go without a date, but that will only tempt the cougars and gold diggers to think I’m still on the market. Which I’m not. I’ve married myself to this company, and for now that’s all the companionship I need.

Mr. White? Brooklyn’s watching me. Her tongue darts out across her plump bottom lip and I almost groan out loud.

The little temptress doesn’t know what she does to me.

What? I snap, looking away and trying to think of anything but her.

Would you like me to call one of your…female friends to escort you?

That won’t be necessary.

Because the solution to my problem is staring straight at me.

No fucking way. I shake my head and focus on the contracts in my hand. Taking Brooklyn anywhere outside of this office is a very bad idea, because the minute I allow myself one touch, I know I won’t be able to hold back from consuming all of her.

She looks at me with those big green eyes, and I know she has no idea what I’m truly capable of. What kind of man is under the designer suits, and cold, calculated mannerisms.

I am the big bad wolf that her mother warned her about.

The girl is too fucking innocent.

And she’s my goddamn assistant.

Keep your paws off her, my brain screams, despite the persistent pulsing bulge between my legs.

But damn, as I’m giving her notes, watching her pink lips pout as I spill out a ton of chores for her to do by lunch time, I can't get the thought out of my head that her sweet little body was made for me.

I need to go through my black book. Try and figure out someone else to take to this damn party.

Can you do all this before twelve? I need to leave early today.

She sighs, but tries to hide her frustration at my tight deadlines.

My phone buzzes and I curse under my breath when I read my father’s text. Ella, my ex. The one that never seems to get the fucking message that we’re over is coming tonight. Even more reason why I need to find a date, and fast.

I was furious when I found out my father had hired her to help him run his campaign. But then he never could resist a pair of long legs and a pretty face. And Ella had